‘What do you like best in the whole world?’ he asked after a long time, to see what she would say.
‘I like you best,’ she answered, smiling, while she still played with his sword.
‘That is very strange,’ Khaled answered, musing. But the colour rose darkly in his cheeks above his beard, for he was pleased now as he had been displeased before.
‘Why is it strange?’ asked Zehowah. ‘Are you not the palm tree in my plain, and a tower of refuge for my people?’
‘And will you dry up the well from which the tree draws life, and take away the corner-stone of the tower’s foundation?’
‘You speak in fables,’ said Zehowah, laughing.
‘Yet you imagined the fable yourself, when you likened me to a palm and to a tower. But I am no lover of allegories. The sword is my argument, and my wit is in my arm. The wall by the tree is the wall of love, and the chief foundation of the tower is the love of Zehowah. If you destroy that, the tree will wither and the tower will fall.’
‘Surely there was never such a man as you,’ Zehowah answered, half jesting but half in earnest. ‘You are as one who has bought a white mare; and though she is fleet, and good to look at, and obedient to his voice and knee, yet he is discontented because she cannot speak to him, and he would fain have her black instead of white, and if possible would teach her to sing like a Persian nightingale.’
‘Is it then not natural in a woman to love man? Have you heard no tales of love from the story-tellers of the harem?’
‘I have heard many such tales, but none of them were told of me,’ Zehowah replied. ‘Will you drink again? Is the drink too sweet, or is it not cool?’
She had risen from her seat and held the golden cup, bending down to him, so that her face was near his. He laid his hand upon her shoulder.
‘Hear me, Zehowah,’ he said. ‘I want but one thing in the world, and it was for that I came out of the Red Desert to be your husband. And that thing I will have, though the price be greater than rubies, or than blood, or than life itself.’
‘If it is mine, I freely give it to you. If it is not mine, take it by force, or I will help you to take it by a stratagem, if I can. Am I not your wife?’
She spoke thus, supposing from his face that he meant some treasure that could be taken by strength or by wile, for she could not believe a man could speak so seriously of a mere thought such as love.
‘Neither my right hand nor your wit can give me this, but only your heart, Zehowah,’ he answered, still holding her and looking at her.
But now she did not laugh, for she saw that he was greatly in earnest.
‘You are still talking of love,’ she said. ‘And you are not jesting. I do not know what to answer you. Gladly will I say, I love you. Is that all? What is it else? Are those the words?’
‘I care little for the words. But I will have the reality, though it cost your life and mine.’
‘My life? Will you take my life, for the sake of a thought?’
‘A thought!’ he exclaimed. ‘Do you call love a thought? I had not believed a woman could be so cold as that.’
‘If not a thought, what then? I have spoken the truth. If it were a treasure, or anything that can be taken, you could take it, and I could help you. But if the possibility of possessing it lie not in deeds, it lies in thoughts, and is itself a thought. If you can teach me, I will think what you will; but if you cannot teach me, who shall? And how will it profit you to take my life or your own?’
‘Is it possible that love is only a thought?’ asked Khaled, speaking rather to himself than to her.
‘It must be,’ she answered. ‘The body is what it is in the eyes of others, but the soul is what it thinks itself to be, happy or unhappy, loving or not loving.’
‘You are too subtle for me, Zehowah,’ Khaled said. ‘Yet I know that this is not all true.’
For he knew that he possessed no soul, and yet he loved her. Moreover he could think himself happy or unhappy.
‘You are too subtle,’ he repeated. ‘I will take my sword again and I will go out and fight, and pursue the enemy and waste their country, for it is not so hard to cut through steel as to touch the heart of a woman who does not love, and it is easier to tear down towers and strongholds of stone with the naked hands than to build a temple upon the moving sand of an empty heart.’
Khaled would have risen at once, but Zehowah took his hand and entreated him to stay with her.
‘Will you go out in the heat of the day, wounded and wearied?’ she asked. ‘Surely you will take a fever and die before you have followed the Shammars so far as two days’ journey.’
‘My wounds are slight, and I am not weary,’ Khaled answered. ‘When the smith has heated the iron in the forge, does he wait until it is cold before striking?’
‘But think also of the soldiers, who have striven hard, and cannot thus go out upon a great expedition without preparation as well as rest.’
‘I will take those whom I can find. And if they will go with me, it is well. But if not, I will go alone, and they and the rest will follow after.’
‘It is summer, too,’ said Zehowah, keeping him back. ‘Is this a time to go out into the northern desert? Both men and beasts will perish by the way.’
‘Has not Allah bound every man’s fate about his neck? And can a man cast it from him?’
‘I know not otherwise, but if heat and hunger and thirst do not kill the men, they will certainly destroy the beasts, whose names are not recorded by Asrael, and who have no destiny of their own.’
‘You hinder me,’ said Khaled. ‘And yet you do not know how many of the Shammar may be yet lurking within a day’s march of the city, slaying your people, burning their houses and destroying their harvest. Let me go. Will you love me better if I stay?’
‘You will be the better able to get the victory.’
‘Will you love me better if I stay?’
‘If you go now, you may fail in your purpose and perish as well. How could I love you at all then?’
‘It is the victory you love then — not me?’
‘Could I love defeat? Nay, do not be angry with me. Stay here at least until the evening. Think of the burning sun and the raging thirst and the smarting of your wounds which have only been dressed this first time. Think of the soldiers, too — —’
‘They can bear what I can bear. Was it not summer-time when the Prophet went out against the Romans?’
‘I do not know. Stay with me, Khaled.’
‘I will come back when I have destroyed the Shammars.’
‘And if the soldiers will not go with you, will you indeed go out alone?’
‘Yes. I will go alone. When they see that they will follow me. They are not foxes. They are brave men.’
Khaled rose and girt his sword about him. Zehowah helped him, seeing that she could not persuade him to stay.
‘Farewell,’ he said, shortly, and without so much as touching her hand he turned and went out. She followed him to the door of the room and stood watching as he went away.
‘One of us two was to rule,’ she said to herself, ‘and it is he, for I cannot move him. But what is this talk of love? Does he need love, who is himself the master?’
She sighed and went back to the carpet on which they had been sitting. Then she called in her women and bid them tell her all they had heard about the fight in the morning; and they, thinking to please her, extolled the deeds of Khaled and of the tens he had slain they made hundreds, and of the thousands of the enemy’s army, they made tens of thousands, till the walls of Riad could not have contained the hosts of which they spoke, and the dry sand of the desert could not have drunk all the blood which had been shed.
Meanwhile Khaled went into the outer court of the palace, where many soldiers were congregated together in the shade of the high wall, eating camel’s meat and blanket bread and drinking the water from the well. They were all able-bodied and unhurt, for those who had been wounded were at their houses, tend
ed by their wives.
‘Men of Riad!’ cried Khaled, standing before them. ‘We have fought a good fight this morning and the power of our foes is broken. But all are not yet destroyed, and it may be that there are many thousands still lurking within a day’s march of the city, slaying the people, burning their houses and destroying their harvests. Let us go out and kill them all before they are able to go back to their own country. Afterwards we will pursue those who are already escaping, and we will lay all the tribes of Shammar under tribute and bring back the women captive.’
Thereupon a division arose among the soldiers. Some were for going at once with Khaled, but others said it was the hot season and no time for war.
‘It is indeed summer,’ said Khaled. ‘But if the Shammars were able to come to Riad in the heat, the men of Riad are able to go to them. And I at least will go at once, and those who wish to share the spoil will go with me, but those who are satisfied to sit in the shade and eat camel’s meat will stay behind. In an hour’s time I will ride out of the northern gate.’
So saying, Khaled rode slowly down into the city towards the market-place. The people were carrying away their own dead, and dragging off the bodies of their enemies, with camels, by fours and fives tied together to bury them in a great ditch without the walls. When Khaled appeared, many of the men gathered round him, with cries of joy, for they had supposed that some of his wounds were dangerous and that they should not see him for many days.
‘Wallah! He is with us again!’ they shouted, jostling each other to get near, and standing on tiptoe to see the good mare that had carried him so well in the fight.
‘Masallah! I am with you,’ answered Khaled, ‘and if you will go with me we will send many more of the Shammars to eat thorns and thistles, as many as dwell in Kasim and Tabal Shammar as far as Haïl; and by the help of Allah we will take the city of Haïl itself and divide the spoil and bring away the women captive; and when we have taken all that there is we will lay the land under tribute and make it subject to Nejed. So let those who will go with me arm themselves and take every man his horse or his camel, and dates and barley and water-skins, and in an hour’s time we will ride out. For Allah will certainly give us the victory.’
‘Let us bury the dead to-day and to-morrow we will go,’ said many of those nearest to him.
‘Are there no old men and boys in Riad to bind the sheaves you have mown?’ asked Khaled. ‘And are there no women to mourn over the dead of your kindred who have fallen in a good fight? And as for to-morrow, it is yet in Allah’s hand. But to-day we have already with us. However, if you will not go with me, I will go alone.’
The men were pleased with Khaled’s speech, and indeed the greater part of the dead were buried by this time, for all the people had made haste to the work, fearing lest the bodies should bring a pestilence among them, since it was summer-time and very hot. Then all those who were unhurt and could bear arms, went and washed themselves, and took their weapons and food, as Khaled had directed them. Before the call to afternoon prayers the whole host went out of the northern gate.
Then Khaled accomplished all that he had spoken of, and much more, for he drove the scattered force of the enemy before him, overtaking all at last and slaying all whom he overtook as far as Zulfah which is by the narrow end of the Nefud. Here he rested a short time, and then quickly crossing the sand, he entered the country called Kasim which is subject to the Shammars. Here he was told by a woman who had been taken that the Shammars were coming with a new army against him out of Haïl. He therefore hid his host in a pass of the hills just above the plain, and sent down a few Bedouins to encamp at the foot of the mountains, bidding them call themselves Shammars and make a show of being friendly to the enemy. So when the army of the Shammars reached the foot of the hills, they saw the tents and only one or two camels, and Khaled’s Bedouins came out and welcomed them, and told them that Khaled was still crossing the Nefud, and that if they made haste through the hills they might come upon him unawares and at an advantage as he began to ascend. Thereupon the enemy rejoiced and entered the pass in haste, after filling their water-skins.
When they were in the midst of the hills, Khaled and his army sprang up from the ambush and fell upon them, and utterly destroyed them, taking all their horses and camels and arms; after which he went down into the plain and laid waste the country about Haïl. He took the city as the Shammars had taken Riad. For he himself got upon the wall at night, with the strongest and the bravest of his followers, and slew the guards and opened the gate just before the dawn. But there was no Khaled in Haïl to rally the soldiers and give them heart to turn and make a stand in the streets.
Khaled then entered the palace and took the Sultan of Shammar alive, not suffering him to be hurt, for he wished to bring him to Riad. This Sultan was a man of middle age, having only one eye, and also otherwise ill-favoured, besides being cowardly and fat. So Khaled ordered that he should be put into a litter, and the litter into a cage, and the cage slung between two camels. But he commanded that the women of the harem should be well treated and brought before him, that he might see them, intending to bring back the most beautiful of them as presents to his father-in-law.
‘Surely,’ said the men who were with him, ‘you will keep the fairest for yourself.’
But Khaled turned angrily upon them.
‘Have I not lately married the most beautiful woman in the world?’ he asked. ‘I tell you it is for her sake that I have destroyed the Shammars. But the Sultan shall have the best of these women, and afterwards the rest of them will be divided amongst you by lot.’
When the women heard that they were to be distributed among the men of Nejed they at first made a pretence of howling and beating their breasts, but they rejoiced secretly and soon began to laugh and talk among themselves, pointing out to each other the strongest and most richly dressed of Khaled’s followers, as though choosing husbands among them. But one of them neither wept nor spoke to her companions, but stood silently watching Khaled, and when he sat down upon a carpet in the chief kahwah of the house, she brought him drink in a goblet set with pearls from Katar, and sat down at his feet as though she had been his wife. But he took little heed of her at first, for he was busy with grave matters.
The other women, seeing what she did, thought that she was acting wisely in the hope of gaining Khaled’s favour, seeing that he was the chief of their enemies, so they, too, came near, and brought water for his hands, and perfumes, and sweetmeats, thinking to outdo her. But she pushed them away, taking what they brought for him, and offering it herself.
‘Are you better than we?’ the women said angrily. ‘Has our lord chosen you for himself, that you will not let us come near him?’
Then Khaled noticed her and began to wonder at her attention and zeal.
‘What is your name?’ he asked. But she did not speak. ‘Who is she?’ he inquired of the other women.
‘She is an unbeliever,’ they answered contemptuously. ‘And she is proud, for she trusts in her white skin and her blue eyes, and her hair which is red without henna. She thinks she is better than we. Command us to uncover our faces, that you may see and judge between us.’
‘Let it be so. Let us see who is the fairest,’ said Khaled, and he laughed.
Then the woman who sat at his feet threw aside her veil, and all the others did the same. Khaled saw that the one was certainly more beautiful than the rest, for her skin was as white as milk, and her eyes like the sea of Oman when it is blue in winter. She had also long hair, plaited in three tresses which came down to her feet, red as the locusts when the sun shines upon them at evening, and not dyed.
‘There is a bay mare in a stable of black ones,’ Khaled said. ‘What is the name of the bay mare?’
‘Her name is Aziz, and she is a Christian,’ said one of the women.
‘Not Aziz — Almasta,’ said the beautiful woman in an accent which showed that she could not speak Arabic fluently. ‘Almasta, a Christian.’
/> ‘She was lately sent as a present to our master by the Emir of Basrah,’ said one of the others.
‘He paid a thousand and five hundred sequins for her, for she was brought from Georgia,’ said another. ‘But I am a free woman, and myself the daughter of an emir.’
Then all the others began to scream.
‘It is a lie,’ they cried. ‘Your father was a white slave from Syria.’
‘You are fools,’ retorted the woman who had spoken. ‘You should have said that you were also free women and the daughters of emirs. So our lord would have treated you with more consideration.’
The others saw their folly and were silent and drew back, but Khaled only smiled.
‘As good mares are bred in the stable as in the desert,’ he said, and the women laughed with him at the jest, for they saw that it pleased him.
But Almasta was silent and sat at his feet, looking into his face.
‘You must learn to talk in Arabic,’ he said, ‘and then you will be able to tell stories of your native country to the Sultan, for he loves tales of travel.’
Almasta smiled and bent her head a little, but she did not understand all he said, being but lately come into Arabia.
‘I will go with you,’ she answered.
‘Yes. You will go with me to Riad to the Sultan, and perhaps he will make you his wife, for he has none at present.’
‘I will go with you,’ she repeated, looking at him.
‘She does not understand you,’ said the women, laughing at her ignorance of their own tongue.
‘It is no matter,’ said Khaled. ‘She will learn in due time. Perhaps it has pleased Allah to send my lord the Sultan a wife without a tongue for a blessing in his old age.’
‘I will go with you,’ Almasta said again.
‘She can say nothing else,’ jeered the women.
One of them pulled her by her upper garment, so that she looked round.
Complete Works of F Marion Crawford Page 437